


Pretty Boy

by arclights



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 12:06:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8401069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arclights/pseuds/arclights
Summary: Haurchefant, aware that Francel has developed an interest in men, attempts to play the part of wingman to help him find someone to warm his bed; however, Francel is really only interested in one particular man.





	

The Count had said that young people would occasionally develop 'desires,' or that they would suddenly crave human touch. Once it started, he said, it would never fully go away.

"You must learn when it is necessary to restrain yourself, Francel, and when it is appropriate to give in."

When Francel had heard this from his father, he was initially terrified. In his experience, many people were more than happy to take what they wanted by force and ask questions later.

As he grew older, though, he came to find that his father's words rang true despite his fear. He found himself having to avert his gaze from the men as they trained, knowing that one lingering glance could be enough to get him into trouble that extended deeper than the Witchdrop. Only Haurchefant, his dearest confidant, was allowed a glimpse into his thoughts.

One evening at Fortemps Manor, Francel found himself more restless than usual. He paced at the foot of the couch where Haurchefant lounged, and the older man smirked.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Haurchefant asked. Francel scowled and waved his hand dismissively at his friend. Haurchefant leaned back in his seat. "You've got quite the overactive imagination for one so young."

"Says you, the one with all the charm in the world," he said finally, his lips twisting into a pout. Haurchefant chuckled bitterly at that and rose from the couch before clapping an arm around Francel's shoulders.

"You give yourself too little credit, friend. But if you really think me so charming..." He flaunted his greater height, puffing out his chest as me motioned in front of Francel. "Let me be your wingman. Double the charm, double the men for you." He grinned, giving Francel's shoulder a squeeze. Francel blushed, averting his gaze like he had so many times before.

"I-I don't know..."

"Come on, it'll be fun. We'll head down to the Crozier, see if there are any traveling merchants about who've got an eye for pretty boys like you."

Francel's lips curled into a small smile at that and he looked back up at his friend.

"Will they really think I'm pretty?"

"Of course they will."

~~~

Francel shivered as they entered the Jeweled Crozier. He wasn't sure if it was the cold or the anticipation getting to him; either way, he was still a bit nervous. Having Haurchefant by his side eased his anxiety somewhat, at least enough for him to hold his head high and put on a smile at the other denizens of the Crozier. 

"You've got to loosen up a bit," Haurchefant said, bending ever slightly in order to murmur his words of encouragement into Francel's ear. "You're a strong, desirable young man. You need to believe that so you can convince others of the same."

The tips of Francel's ears reddened and he nodded, taking a gulp of fresh air before striding off ahead of his friend. His gaze swung from side to side as he eyed the stalls and their owners. Most of them were familiar, having worked to earn their livings there for years. The merchants of the Jeweled Crozier were a proud lot, selling only their finest in order to curry favor with the High Houses of Ishgard. In truth, Francel couldn't blame them; he knew as well as anyone the importance of having one's foot in the door when it came to the nobility.

At last his eyes settled on a pair of young men trying to barter goods out of the back of a cart. They couldn't have been more than a year or two older than Francel, but their builds were far more muscular. Sensing the approach of a potential customer, the men turned their attention to the young lord. Their eyes, one set obsidian, the other hazel, lit up when they saw his fine garb.

"Welcome to our little shop, good Ser!" they greeted him, raising their arms in a sweeping motion as they bowed. Francel's confidence began to shrink and he found himself wanting to backpedal away, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind he was met with the comforting touch of a familiar hand on his shoulder.

"Good evening to you, gentlemen," Haurchefant said cheerily, his bold voice giving away the charismatic grin that was surely on his face. Francel offered a small bow to the men, a smile returning to his lips.

"What are you peddling tonight?" Francel asked, peering curiously into the back of the men's cart. They both chuckled in unison, the hazel-eyed one clapping his companion on the back.

"This isn't fit for noble ears, I reckon," the man said, "but we're adventurers in it for the gil." He reached into the cart and pulled out a golden crown bedecked with sapphires. "Folks may not appreciate what we do, but they certainly do appreciate what we bring back for them." He held the crown up for a moment before slyly placing it atop Francel's head. "I say, those jewels go well with your eyes, Ser..?"

"Francel. My name is Francel," he stammered, reaching up to touch the crown on his head. The metal was cold. 

Haurchefant wrapped an arm around Francel's shoulders and leaned in conspiratorially, waiting for the adventurers to lend him an ear.

"My friend and I are looking for some..." He cleared his throat. "Companions to share the night with. You wouldn't happen to know anyone who would be interested in something like that, would you?"

The two men shared an intense look with one another before broad grins broke out across their faces. The one with darker eyes spoke for them both.

"We would be more than glad to keep you company on this cold night, milords. We assume you will have somewhere safe for us to store our treasures?"

"But of course," Haurchefant said with a bow, gesturing up the walkway. "Allow me to direct you to my father's house."

Francel removed the crown from his head to hand it back to the hazel-eyed man.

"Why don't you keep that, pretty one?" he said. Francel gulped and nodded hesitantly before withdrawing the crown. The edge that had been sitting on his head felt sharp against his fingers.

~~~

"Thus we made our escape from the Darkhold!" the dark-eyed adventurer laughed, clapping a hand onto Haurchefant's shoulder. Haurchefant chuckled, allowing the other man to lean on him as he finished his story.

The man who had taken an interest in Francel kept shooting glances at him, even as he nodded sagely at his companion's tale. When he offered a knee to the young lord, Francel sat upon it, his face going completely red.

"Why so shy, Ser Francel?" the adventurer teased, tracing the tip of a calloused finger along Francel's jaw. Francel trembled, scrambling back to his feet.

"W-Would anyone fancy a drink?" he stammered, backing up toward the door. "Perhaps some tea..?"

"Surely you've got something stronger than that," Haurchefant's new 'friend' said. Francel wasn't sure if he was joking or not.

"I'll see what I can do," Francel managed to say, excusing himself from the room. He made his way to the kitchen and leaned against one of the counters, allowing himself to mentally collapse for a moment. 

Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself upright once more, only to be violently shaken as a rough hand clapped over his mouth. He panicked, scrabbling against the hand, but froze instantly as the cool metal of a blade pressed against his throat.

"Oi, pretty one, can't you offer better hospitality than that?" The adventurer whose company Francel had just left laughed darkly, his formerly flattering voice now as rough as his hands. Frightened, Francel had to force himself not to squirm in the man's grip. The moonlight that seeped through the kitchen window reflected off the knife's blade onto the wall.

Sensing Francel's fear, the man's grip tightened and he pressed the blade more sharply into Francel's skin, drawing blood.

"You're still soft, Ser," he spat, slowly leading Francel out of the kitchen and in the opposite direction from the parlor where Haurchefant and the other man were lounging. "You'll fetch a fine price, not exempting your status." They came to a door at the end of the hall and the man put the handle of his dagger between his teeth to reach for the handle. 

Francel took that moment to chomp down on the man's finger, causing him to yelp in surprise and drop the knife. The young lord jumped for the blade, rolling underneath the other man's arm to snatch it up.

"Thal take you!" the man cursed, shaking his hand as if to ward away the pain. Droplets of blood flew from his finger and his hazel eyes blazed in anger. Francel clung desperately to the dagger, warily eyeing his attacker. The man swung his leg out in a kick, hoping to disarm him, but Francel parried with the knife; however, sloppy was his technique, and the blade sank into the meat behind the man's kneecap. He screamed, and a commotion sounded from the way they had come.

~~~

When Haurchefant had heard the scream, he had instantly jumped to his feet, much to the chagrin of the adventurer at his side. Recognizing his companion's scream, the dark-eyed man had attempted to stop Haurchefant from leaving the room. Needless to say, he found himself swiftly incapacitated.

Both 'adventurers' were thrown out on their asses, the hazel-eyed man still bleeding at the knee. He kept crying something about 'spineless noblemen,' but Haurchefant had bigger concerns than the suffering of men who had made an attempt on his best friend's freedom.

Francel sat at the edge of Haurchefant's bed, his fingers tightly gripping the blankets beneath him. Haurchefant slowly eased himself down beside the younger man, resting one hand atop Francel's tensed fingers. They sat like that for a long time, Francel struggling to normalize his breathing.

"I'm sorry," Haurchefant finally said, sighing deeply and looking at the floor as he did. "None of this would have happened if not for my silly idea."

"No..." Francel shook his head. "You were only trying to help me. It was just bad luck. I'm too trusting. Father is always saying it; I just can't seem to learn."

"Even so, I should have known better," Haurchefant admitted. "I need to be able to protect both of us, and that means being of sound enough mind to know when someone is a danger to you."

Slowly, Francel pulled his fingers away from the blankets and turned his hand to take Haurchefant's. He sighed, squeezing his friend's palm.

"No one will ever be interested in me the way I want them to be," he murmured. "I'll always be my father's fourth-born, a bargaining chip but not a person."

"That's not true," Haurchefant insisted. "You're a bright young man, caring and loyal above all else. There's no one more trustworthy than you in all of Ishgard."

"I can't get anyone to look at me twice and see anything other than a sack of gil. No one would ever want me, especially not..." He trailed off, squeezing Haurchefant's hand more tightly. "Especially not someone like you," he whispered, his voice so quiet that it barely met his own ears. Tears began streaming down his cheeks before he even realized he was crying.

"Francel... Dearest Francel," Haurchefant said, cradling the younger man's hand in his own. "How could you, of all people, say something like that? You, with a pure heart and eyes just like the fresh night sky?" He kissed Francel's cheek, brushing away his tears with his lips. "If you wanted someone like me you simply had to say so. There's no use for those types of charades between friends, is there?"

Francel looked up at Haurchefant, who gazed down at him with such warmth and kindness in his eyes that fresh tears sprang from Francel's own.

"I don't deserve someone like you to protect me or hold me like that," he murmured. "You are strong and shining, brilliant like the sun. How can someone like me even bear to look at you?"

Haurchefant cupped Francel's chin with his free hand, forcing their eyes to meet before placing a gentle kiss upon his lips.

"If I can still look at you, even after all the times I've failed you, then I can only pray that you can find it in yourself to look at me in return." Francel nodded weakly, pressing himself closer to Haurchefant, this time kissing him. Haurchefant smiled against Francel's lips, squeezing his hand once more.

"Is it true, then?" Francel asked, just barely pulling away. Haurchefant cocked his head to the side.

"Is what true?"

"Do you really think I'm pretty?"

Haurchefant chuckled.

"I think you're beautiful."


End file.
